Take My Breath Away
by Luster Tolasi
Summary: Given the opportunity of a lifetime, literally, I agreed to take the one-way trip as a way to go out with a bang. What I didn't expect was a world so breathtaking yet different from mine to give me a second go at life. It looked like my days weren't done quite yet.


**Random idea I had, hopefully it doesn't come across too sad. Would love opinions, I know this could use a bit of work but I can't place exactly what. Enjoy~**

* * *

May was a month of memories.

Eight years ago, my high school baseball team won regionals. I was starting pitcher for the second half of the season and any free time I had after school, outside of homework, involved baseball. While I was probably the fittest I'd ever been due to it, I couldn't continue to live that kind of schedule after that year. I still love to throw the ball for kids at the park now and then though.

Four years ago, my dad and I finished restoring the Camaro he'd picked up from my great uncle's barn years prior. It had been a daunting project of many hours over many months but seeing that old muscle look factory new made it all worthwhile. Whenever we'd both have the day off, we'd take her down the beachfront with the top down to cruise and talk. It was one of the few times we would fully open up to each other after mom passed.

Two years ago, I graduated from college with a Bachelor in Mechanical Engineering. All of my childhood years of tinkering never quite left me and I couldn't come up with a better career for myself. I was straight-hired by the local automotive engine factory to maintain and repair the factory equipment. I can't say it was an exciting job, but it paid well and allowed me to continue car restoration at my own dime and leisure.

And last May..?

Last May, I was diagnosed with an unknown degenerative lung disease – the same that claimed my mother when I was ten.

Last May, I was told I might not see the next.

* * *

Greenwood Memorial Hospital was a quaint, if unassuming, three-story building. Compared to the major hospital in the inner city, you could call it more of a clinic. Any local low-severity case was routed to Greenwood for quick, reliable care. Back once again on the second floor, Ethan mused on how well he could recount the floor plan at this point.

He laid in room 209 with his gaze out the window to watch the clouds be carried away by the wind. He took another heavy inhale of the oxygen being fed into his nose and released it with a sigh. His hand ran over the handle of the oxygen tank beside his bed as he took another breath, his ragged lungs appreciating the fresh air.

' _Another beautiful day in a hospital bed.'_

The thought made him sigh, with the action also causing a cough. The quick hiccup in his breathing made him purse his lips. His attacks were becoming more frequent as of late, a thought that made him grimace. He knew he was going to have to confront his dad over his decision, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. How are you supposed to tell your father you want to go out on your own terms?

A knock at the doorway drew him from his thoughts and a doctor walked to his bedside.

"I'm here to give one last check to your vitals and if everything seems stable we can see about getting you out of here this afternoon on oxygen. Could you lift your shirt, please?"

Ethan gave a nod as he did so, the doctor placing their stethoscope on his chest.

"Deep breaths, please."

The doctor listened to the sound of air filling his lungs, even the light whistle of it brushing against the scar tissue. Thankfully, he wasn't wheezing like he was when he was first admitted and his lungs were fluid-free.

"Good news, Mr. Valian. Your lungs sound as good as can be. I'll sign off on your discharge papers and you'll be free to go. Would you like us to call your father?"

Ethan reached over to his phone on the bedside table. "It's ok, I'll send him a message. Thanks for everything, doc."

"No trouble at all. Try to take it easy over the next couple of days to finish healing and then you should be well enough to be off of the oxygen during the day."

Once again alone in a hospital room, Ethan sent a text to his father to be picked up then set the phone on his chest and covered his eyes with the crook of an elbow.

' _I have to tell him.'_

* * *

Just like any other time he had been admitted, his dad picked him up in the Camaro. His father drove casually as they made their way back home, both sitting in the relative silence of the tires against the road. Ethan had the oxygen tank resting between his legs on the floor and rubbed over the handle in nervous habit.

He stared out the window as they turned onto Charleston Avenue. Driving past the strip mall on the right reminded him of the little ice cream place within that had the best milkshakes. Whenever he would get a good report card, his parents would take him out for ice cream. Strawberry had always been his favorite, just like his.. mother.. His mother..

His father, Arthur, knew whatever was on his son's mind would come out soon. The car had a way of drawing the words out of the both of them. The silence broke as they sat at a red light.

"Dad, I've decided something."

Arthur looked over to his son, hesitant at the tone. "What's that, buddy?"

With closed but tearing eyes, he whispered out. "I don't want to go like Mom did."

Between them, it felt like the world had stopped. His dad could only look over at him with wide eyes. Ethan couldn't look at him at all. It wasn't until the sound of a horn blaring from behind them did they snap back to reality. Nothing was said as his father drove them to an empty section of a store's parking lot and turned off the engine.

They sat in silence for a minute, both of them merely looking ahead with thoughts swirling in their heads. Ethan cracked first.

"I can't do that to you, Dad.. You don't deserve having to watch me wither away, too. I want to go on my own terms."

Arthur couldn't hold back the forming tears. "Ethan, we don't know how long you still have. There's no need to.. Give up so early.."

Ethan gripped and held his dad's hand and sadly smiled over at him. "We both know I'm getting worse. I may have a year left, but how much of that is going to be spent in a hospital? How long before sticking this tube in my nose isn't enough? That's not living, Dad.. I don't want that to be my final days.."

Arthur gripped Ethan's hand like a lifeline. "I know, bud.. I know.. I just.. I don't want to have to say goodbye to you, too.. You're all I have left, Ethan. You're all that I have left…"

The tears fell freely from their eyes as Ethan sat himself up to hug his father. While no more words were said, they held each other content in the fact that, at least for now, they still had each other.

* * *

When I was alone and my thoughts would wander, I would think about which way I'd want to go if I had a choice. There was always medical euthanasia but, sorry for being childish, it wasn't an exciting way to go. So my thoughts wandered over to what I thought would be exciting. It was that train of thought that led me to send a letter to the largest scientific firm in the country to ask for the craziest thing I could think of. That I was approved for it was crazier.

I was going to be teleported beyond any current notion of spacetime – a one-way trip into the great beyond.

All clichés aside, I was going to send myself to who-knows-where as my way of going out with a bang. I get one last surprise and they get real data on a human transposition. My dad wasn't too keen on the idea but once the emotions of the conversation mellowed he came to understand the thoughts behind my decision.

I threw a 'Going Away' party for myself at home the day before my grand sendoff. Everyone from extended family, to old college buddies, to the co-workers I made friends with at the factory showed up. Now that I was a part of it, this is how I wanted a funeral to be; everybody having a good time and cherishing our friendships.

I held a raffle for most of my possessions during the festivities. I could only guess at what people thought of the event, but I knew it would tear my dad up to have to go through my things after I was gone. Hopefully, he would use the money to take a vacation or the like. He sure deserved it between me and mom.

I saved my closest possessions to give to him and a few things to take with myself, like the Norse and Egyptians. Heh, maybe I'd be starting a trend that would be looked back on in the same way. A couple were keepsakes, like the simple silver necklace my mom gave me on my tenth birthday which always adorned my neck. The others were practical, like my wallet, filled with all of my identification and a couple thousand dollars in the form of a gold nugget, just in case I ended up alive and someplace hospitable on the other end. I was hoping shiny things were a universal currency.

True to form, we ended the night with a eulogy of sorts. Everyone brought up a moment or two from our times together. From smiles to tears to toasts, we shared the bonds that led us to be together this night. It was as the moon settled overhead that we drew things to a final close. One group photo and many goodbye hugs later, only me and my father were left in my childhood home.

We didn't sleep. We couldn't sleep. We sat in front of the fireplace in the living room and talked the night away. It was the first time we'd talked about mom outside of her birthday since she'd passed. We talked about all the good times we had with her. We talked about all the good times he had with me. We talked until the sun rose and we ran out of things to say, enjoying the last bit of time we had together.

* * *

They took the Camaro out for one last drive together for the three-hour trip to the address Ethan had been given for the testing facility. Matching sunglasses kept the morning sun out of their eyes as they traversed the interstate highway, Ethan speeding just a bit when he thought he could get away with it. It wasn't out of any sense of haste, merely from a sense of pleasure of getting into the triple digits on the speedometer.

Coffee and anticipation kept them both wide awake for the drive. It was as they reached the exit for their destination that the reality hit home. Arthur looked over to his only son, sat behind the wheel of the car they restored together, and sighed.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Ethan, for his strength, closed his eyes and took a breath. The weight of his exhale laid heavy in the air and he nodded with a smile.

"You always said I could do with a vacation. It's a little unorthodox, but it's the chance of a lifetime."

Arthur chuckled and shook his head, resting it in his hand. "Only you could make a terrible pun about this. Think you can send a postcard back?"

"If, somehow, there's a return service, I'll be sure to send plenty with a pun a piece."

The address led them to a high-security compound with the fences and guard posts to match. It took two forms of identification and a call to the top before they were allowed entrance. The building itself looked like a nondescript warehouse – two stories tall, no windows, and tan-colored siding. They were met at the door by a primly-dressed gentleman who led them within the building without a word.

He punched a code into a door at the end of the lobby and led them into the following hallway. The doors they passed were only labeled with numbers and the hallway ended with another code-secure door. Ethan began to think the building felt more like a prison than a lab. That last door opening ended that line of thought. What lay within was beyond imagination. Wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling was machine. It didn't look pretty but he imagined function beat form when it came to the science being performed here.

The gentleman passed the pair off to a lab technician who obvious had more experience with people, as she greeted them with a smile and a handshake.

"Mr. Valian? I'll be the one walking you through the process. Don't worry, all of the work is on our end. I know you've already gone through the tons of paperwork but I want to ask again. Are you sure about this?"

Ethan could see the sadness in her eyes. "Hey now, today's a day for science! No tears, there's been enough for a lifetime. I'm sure I want to do this."

She wiped her eyes and gave a smile. "Alright then, all you need to do is step onto the central pad there when you're ready and we'll do the rest. Let us know when you're ready."

Arthur turned to his son. "I hope they don't go all _Men In Black_ on me and wipe my memory. That's pretty cool looking, _Star Trek_ vibes."

"Hah, nah, I think if you talked they'd abduct you and put you to work in one of the offices here though."

His dad cringed. "I'll take the memory wipe, please."

"I would too, dad. Paperwork is evil."

They both turned to look at each other and his dad gave a sigh. "This is it, eh?"

Ethan gave a small nod and shrug of his lips. "That it is. I think we've done enough painful goodbyes at this point, so I'll just say: See you later, dad."

Arthur sadly smiled. "On the other side, bud."

Ethan turned to the side. "I'm ready."

The tech pointed to a glass chamber towards the center of the chamber, raised up above the ground a bit. "Walk inside and we'll start."

Giving one last hug to his father, Ethan turned and walked the last steps up the ramp to the transporter. The chamber sealed for a stable environment and the lab technician began to count down with his fingers. Giving a thumbs-up with the transporter powering up, Ethan left his world behind.

Of all the places the coordinates could've sent him, it was no place in his universe. He actually teleported to the same place he was before, but onto a parallel plane. All things considered the world was incredibly similar, simply a place where evolution had gone slightly differently.

Unfortunately, the exact location he was happened to be a story above the ground in an alleyway in the heart of a city. With a loud boom from the transposition, Ethan's thumbs-up turned into flailing arms and panic as he fell into a dumpster and was knocked out.

* * *

' _Reports of possible gunfire in the alley on the 2700 block of Acacia Street. Closest available cars report in and provide backup. Over.'_

"103 reporting in, 10-4, one minute out and in transit. Over." The fox cop who responded hung the radio back up and looked to his bunny partner. "Showtime, Carrots. Looks like today's a rough one."

She only gave a nod as she hung a left onto Acacia, a frown on her face as she kept her eyes open for the alley.


End file.
